


Especially Jedi

by pronker



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 13:09:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/419278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pronker/pseuds/pronker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obi-Wan explores his Master's home world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Especially Jedi

Title: Especially Jedi

Author: pronker

Era: Jedi Apprentice

Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, OCs

Disclaimer: I make no profit on Star Wars stories, set in George Lucas' creation and I am not George Lucas.

a/n Happy May the Fourth!

IOIOIOIOIO

The tantalizing stream on the other side of the hedge led the way straight into the Force itself, thought the tired and hot young man. Fourteen weary kilometers of highway, dotted with dust clouds and shimmering in the afternoon heat, lay between himself and the spaceport which would whisk him away to his Temple home. Behind him, conquered at much sweaty cost, were fourteen more kilometers, stretching back to the village where not even a swoop could be hired on Rest Day. Rather than spend the day in that sour abode of rectitude, he had fled on foot, his business completed, the accord duly notarized, and this little creek, mocking, irresistible, was the only bit of cheer on which his eyes had rested in that whole stifling trek.

Even this had a drawback. He glanced up again, with a frown creasing its way between his brows, at the queer sign smirking down at him from the darkling hedge. It was the fifth one of the sort in the past half-klick:

**TRESPASSERS**

**are warned from these premises under penalty of law**

_**ESPECIALLY JEDI** _

He turned away, licking his lips. Dust, dust, dust! He could feel it coating his tongue, gritty on his lips, grimy on his face. It had stiffened his hair, clotted his nostrils and settled into his boots. It was everywhere and pervaded his sense of tradition, normally a source of great comfort.  _I disagree with the Council on this matter. Those of us with Masters who know their home worlds should_ _ **not**_ _have to undertake a solo mission on that same world. What did I just accomplish here? I feel no closer to Qui-Gon than I did before. Our bond is the same._

The forbidden creek suddenly bubbled into a bar of pattering song - an ecstasy of crystal notes - than as suddenly died down, babbling and gurgling, and flowed smoothly on, whispering to itself of delights to come in the heart of the cool woods. Just here, with a scimitar sweep between mossy banks, the stream turned its back to him and hurried away among the trees. The trees reminded him of his fellow crèche mates and their dips into the surprisingly deep pools in the Room of a Thousand Fountains.

How wonderfully chill those boyish swims had been and how he relished the thought now, Bant joining him in her shy way, playful in the water with an ease she hid when she was dry. Yoda at the head of the spilling water, nodding and chortling to himself, eyes taking them all in and Force perception attuned to fany Clanmate's fatigue which would mar their enjoyment. The splashes, the icy drops on his cheeks when he surfaced, the soft yielding of the water and then, the buoyancy that made his spirit soar. He wondered how long he could stay under, and if he could hold his eyes open while he dived and if he could swim like a nek pup, then flip himself over to float and stare up at the artificial lights and untrustworthy sky.

This place held no such artifice; it was cool and shady and restful. Just before the creek turned behind a clump of greel trees, a patch of sunlight lay on it, shooting down as if through mists of twilight, and the surface of the water laughed and flirted at him before it slid into woodsy quietude. He could no longer resist. He gave up the struggle. The white hot road could wait.

"Here goes the 'especial Jedi,'" he said, looking up at the sign as he forced his way through the hedge. Its green lips of close-set leaves kissed him as he allowed them to swallow him. It was as pleasant as he thought it would be.

What a coquette stream that was, leaping merrily down tiny, rock-strewn inclines, showing him how light-hearted it could be; it flowed sedately between narrow banks to mimic propriety; it peeped a smile at him from behind graceful reeds; it danced brazenly into the open and dashed across clear spaces in haste to escape him; it slowed to tempt him, then raced on, until at the last it plunged straight at a wall of underbrush and, with a giggle, vanished under low sweeping caresses of leaves without even so much as a farewell.

The young Jedi was not to be put off. He fought his way through the green lips and found himself, blinking, in a natural clearing that was a bright climax to all the tantalizing artistry of the creek. Encircled by drooping, long-leaved trees that he could not name that were themselves guarded by stately trees ten meters tall, lay a deep pool, as clear as Coruscant's skies were crowded, with one side carpeted with velvety grasses and screened with the greenest of draperies. The smiling blue sky was as true as his Master's heart. With a cry, the young man hastily threw off his robes and every stitch beneath them, whooping to the small furry creature which peered at him from the far side of a limb. He plunged into the pool.

One by one he tried all the old boyish tricks and when at last he lay floating peacefully on his back, looking up at the clouds shaped like Aurebesh characters when he was not scouting the river stones for anything Force-sensitive, he forgot the kilometers of weary distance yet to walk. This was  _his_  way of celebrating Rest Day.

There was a rustle among the trees. Two nek dogs bounded to the edge of the water and ruffed at him. He froze in the middle of the pool, teeth suddenly chattering. Nek dogs, such as King Frane had used in his hunts, had cybernetic implants to render them controllable; he spotted the blinking implants on each pointed ear. They would not hesitate to attack him in the water, he knew. He was going to have a rough time of it. Automatically he reached towards his lightsaber, nestled atop his discarded clothing. It flew to his hand and Obi-Wan waited for battle.

IOIOIOIOIO

Obi-Wan saw the neks were scarcely more than pups. They capered awkwardly, their mouths open wide in dog laughter. They wriggled their stub tails, they ruffed more. He had never seen nek dogs act in this way. Were they enhanced for friendly dispositions, rather than for viciousness? On impulse, he splashed water at them. They bounded in the air as one and then dropped down to front paws and made a great deal of noise. Then to prove their friendliness, they pounced upon his clothing.

"Hey! No!" cried the Jedi, and scrambled out to rescue his apparel. 

It was kind of him, the dogs thought, to take so much interest in their game, and not to be outdone in heartiness, they scampered off through the woods, dragging the clothes with them. All they left behind was his left boot. He threw sticks and stones after them and had started to chase them when a dreadful sound trilled through the greenery: the voices of women.

The Force warned him of no danger, but then that entity did not consider embarrassment as a threat. There was one safe hiding place - the pool. With his last shred of presence of mind, he concealed his lightsaber inside the boot, secured the boot under a gnarl of root and plunged just in time, diving under a clump of low-hanging branches where a friendly knurl gave support to his arms and breast.

Two elderly ladies of forbidding aspect came slowly within his range of vision. One was tall and thin and the other was short and thin. While both wore the plain black gowns of this region's women, not even the folk of the village from which Obi-Wan had escaped this very morning evinced the repression shown by these two. Hair parted to a meticulous degree had been pulled back over the ears and when one turned her head, he could see the knot of hair secured so tightly that it made her eyebrows nearly immovable. He shivered, and not just from the chill of the water.

Some weighty problem bowed their shoulders, but as they came opposite to him, the taller of the two burst out with:

"Men, men, men! Nothing but men, morning to night. Please explain, Sister Georgette! Where did Edna, during my brief absence, get her curiosity about the despicable sex?"

"It was the recent visit of Doctor Fromitzen, dear Sister Dolpha," meekly replied the smaller woman. "She lost a holomag here and Edna found it. The  _thing_  contained several love stories, so-called, an objectionably illustrated article on 'Young Captains of Industry' and another on 'Handsome Young Studs of the Stage.' I destroyed the pernicious thing as soon as it came into my hands, but the damage had been done!"

"Damage, indeed, Sister Georgette!" snapped the other. "Since the age of five, poor Sister Jan-Elaine's orphan has never been permitted to see a man. Big girls have even been hired to work our fields. And this,  _this_  is the end of fourteen years of self-sacrificing care?"

The young Jedi in the pool cautiously ducked his head under the water. A midge with a healthy appetite for damp skin and the blood pulsing beneath had settled back of his ear and was driving him mad.

"Dreadful, simply dreadful," moaned Sister Dolpha. "Edna goes about sighing all day long and primps in the mirror. She has taken to wearing gray rather than black, and does up her hair with flowers. I suspect she is pinching her cheeks to make them flush becomingly, and as for the way she broods, and takes long walks by herself in the  _moonlight_  - "

A coiling reptile coursed through the water near Obi-Wan and he wanted out, but he stayed.

"Moonlight, hmmph." Sister Dolpha's sniff was so hard it must have hurt her. "Moonlight." No language in any galaxy could express the disdain with which she spoke the word of philandering and frivolity.

"Moonlight is very pretty," ventured Sister Georgette. "I rather like it myself."

"At  _your_  time of life, really, Sister Georgette," retorted Sister Dolpha. "You are too sentimental as well as too careless."

Thank the stars they were going! The young Jedi waited until their voices died in the distance, then crept cautiously to the bank. He had to find those neks, and in a hurry. He had just seated himself to dry for a moment in a sunsplotch of clear light, when he again heard the voices of women and once more plunged into the pool like a compact Gungan, as he reflected he must seem to the furry creature still watching him from the tree.

"But, Aunt Randii, how do you know?" Obi-Wan heard as he came up under the drooping branches of the aptly-placed tree. This new voice, sweet and limpid, belonged to a girl of such striking appearance that the young Jedi was on the point of forgetting his dilemma, until that infernal midge settled back of his ear again.

"My dear Edna," answered a jerky little voice, "your aunts, remember, were all young once, and considered great beauties in their day." There was a nebula of gentle pride in Aunt Randii's voice as she said this, and it sounded so well that she said it over again. " _Great_  beauties in their day! In consequence they each had their experiences with men, and know that there is not one to be trusted. Not one, my child, not one! Believe your aunts."

"It seems impossible, Aunty," declared the soft voice of Edna. "Why, in that holomag were some of the most noble-looking creatures ..."

"Those are the very worst kind," hastily interrupted Aunt Randii. "The more handsome they are, the more dangerous. Since you remain so incredulous, however, I suppose I shall have to tell you what we know about them."

IOIOIOIOIO

The young Jedi in the pool felt his circulation stopping. The two females were calmly sitting down on the bank to talk confidences, and from what he knew of Bant's and Siri's chats, they were as likely as not to perch there until he slipped into the Force without so much as one sock on his ten water-logged toes. He was conscious of a cramp beginning in his left leg. His shoulders trembled. He had to be motionless, as well, and that was another hardship. The least movement might betray him, for the ladies sat quite near and Edna was facing him. Thanks to the thickness of the leafy hiding place, she could not see him, but he could see her plainly, and she was well worth looking at. Her gown was made with the same economical amount of material as her aunts, but on her, the gown, as gray as as an artificially-induced bank of fog crafted by Coruscanti technology, snugged feminine curves as well-planned by Nature as the quadratic bezier curves of the beguiling waterway in which he currently shivered. Her hair was parted in the center and skinned back over her ears, but there the resemblance with her aunts ended. Despite the severely straight brushing, her hair waved and it glinted red-gold where little flecks of sunlight filtered through the branches of the greel trees to caress it; along with the pink bloom behind her left ear and another at her throat and a pair of gray boots that peeked out from the hem of the gown, she presented a charming picture.

Obi-Wan looked closer. She had an oval face with flushed cheeks and beads of perspiration at her temples, her eyes sparkled: oh, well, the young Jedi gave up cataloguing her attraction and summed her up as a stunningly pretty girl. Then he tried once more to shoo that pesky midge and wished to the stars that they both would go.

"When our dear mother died, we four girls were quite young," began Aunt Randii, pausing to smooth her ebony gown, and the young man in the watery prison fought despair. She was starting out like a bard. Soon she would break into a warbled lament.

"Your Aunt Dolpha was eighteen Standard, your Aunt Georgette and myself sixteen, and your poor, deluded mother fourteen. Our father, child, married again six days after the Primary Year of Mourning, and so you see, our acquaintance with the duplicity of men began at a very early age. Of course, we refused to live with a stepmother or countenance her occupation of our own dear mother's home. We four left as a group to live with your Great Uncle Potor, a widower of upright character.  _He_  would never  _think_  of remarriage." Aunt Randii sniffed prodigiously as she had before. Obi-Wan wondered if the heat were affecting her sinuses.

"Caring for our own responsibilities at such a tender age, it behooved us to conduct ourselves with the strictest propriety, and I am most happy to say that we passed triumphantly through the trial. Naturally, we being great beauties in our day, my child,  _great_  beauties, many young men fluttered about us, and some really made quite favorable impressions upon us. There was one in particular ..." Here Aunt Randii paused for a sigh and fixed her eyes in sad reminiscence upon a little clump of ferns that waved incessant salutes at their reflections. "He was seven years older than I, a long, thick, brown, erm, head of hair, a nose that ..."

" _Sith_  take the story of her life!" muttered the miserable youth in the pool. HIs teeth chattered like the small furry creature's noisings, which it delivered from a higher branch than before. Obi-Wan envied the fur on its wiry body.

"Do tell, Aunty!" cried the eager Edna.

Aunt Randii fanned herself. "Well, child, they were all alike. Having insinuated themselves into our confidences by agreeable manners and by their really indisputable attractiveness and there was one, in particular, whose voice could have melted  _any_  girl's resistance ... erm, what was I saying? Ah, yes ... having aroused tender emotions, what did these young men do, one and all? Why, instead of waiting until the acquaintance had ripened into mutual undying affection and then falling gracefully to their knees with  _honorable_  proposals of marriage, they chose what seemed to be favorable moments and strove, by cajolery or stealth or even the Force, to kiss us. To _kiss_  us!"

"Stang!" exclaimed Edna. "Jedi!"

There was a moment's silence. The member of the Jedi Order could feel his short Padawan crop rising along his neck, trying to warm his puckered scalp. His Knight's tail dripped icy drops and he shivered harder.

"Though it might not have been so very dreadful," finally commented Edna, after a thoughtful sigh.

"Edna Mara Egglim!" cried Aunt Randii. "I am astounded!"

"I can't help it, Aunty," said Edna. "I can't make it seem so terrible, no matter how hard I try. In fact, it , it seems to me that it would have been, well, nice."

_**"Edna!"** _

"But, Aunty, didn't it ever seem that way to you, sometimes?"

Aunt Randii was shocked and silent for seven shivers, then over her cheeks, which rarely saw the sun, crept a pinkness. Obi-Wan wondered if his original judgment of the materteral group as "elderly" could stand correcting. In this light, Aunt Randii looked comparable in age to Master Qui-Gon.

"I'll not deny," she presently confessed in a hesitant voice, "that if we had not had each other to rely upon for firmness, we might  _perhaps_  have been deluded by some of these young scapegraces. Truly, they were appealing at times, with their bright blue eyes. There was one in particular ..."

Again, Aunt Randii became lost in meditative trance. The man in the pool swore under his breath, even though he perceived the tear that trembled upon the lady's eyelash. It was impossible to be sympathetic while something slithered between his ankles.

"My mother must have thought the way I do, I am sure," persisted Edna. The remark brought Aunt Randii out of the past with a jerk.

"Jan-Elaine had the most pitiful experience of all, child," she replied. "She married. Shortly after you were born, she died, thankfully spared all knowledge of your father's faithless fickleness. Edna, he, too, married again! You, Edna, were too young to protect yourself from a stepmother, but we came to your rescue. Your Great Uncle Potor had just died and left us this fine estate, and here we are, trying to shield you from the wiles of the Destroyer, Man!"

"Some men must be nice, or so many, many girls would not want them," reasoned Edna. She looked sidelong at her aunt. "The holomags exist for  _some_  purpose." Obi-Wan marshaled arguments in the defense of his sex. It made a pleasant distraction from the midge buzzing over his ear.

"I'll not deny, dear, that some  _seem_  quite nice," admitted Aunt Randii with a sigh as soft as a baby's cheek. "There was one in particular ..."

The nek dogs interrupted at this moment with a raging struggle for some white trailing article.

" _Now_  what have Milo and Gloria got?" cried Edna, jumping up to give chase in a healthy and delightful burst of speed.

The man in the pool realized with a grimace that Milo and Gloria had his missing outer tunic. Obi-Wan's teeth were pounding together now as loud as the hubbub in Coruscant's spaceport. Edna returned, flushed to the color of a red summer rose by the exercise.

"I couldn't catch them," she panted. "My stars, but I am warm! There is plenty of time for a plunge before dinner. Just wait, Aunty, until I run for the swim suits," and she flashed away again.

As Aunt Randii reached around to undo the top button of her gown just under her knot of graying hair, the hidden Jedi grew so warm that his shivers stopped. Obi-Wan's dilemma was unspeakable and unsolvable, seemingly, but suddenly it was solved for him. Milo and Gloria came back.

The tunic had been shredded and they sought fresh diversion. After cordially barked invitations for Obi-Wan to come out and play, they went in after him. Gouts of water splashed as high as King Frane's head as the neks struggled and shrilled some more. Presently a muscular bare arm pulled aside the green branches and the face of a damp Jedi appeared to the astonished gaze of Aunt Randii.

IOIOIOIOIO

"Excuse me, madame," Obi-Wan began, lunging with a vigor at Milo and Gloria with his feet. "Please call off your neks."

Aunt Randii, pale but determined, whipped out an antiquated monster of a Verpine pistol from her pocket, though she held it far off from her and to one side, with no intention, past, present, or future, of ever firing it. It got its effectiveness from size alone, built for pure moral suasion if ever a pistol was.

"Hold perfectly still or I shall shoot," she quavered. "You are a male trespasser, sir!"

"I sincerely regret it, madame," replied the culprit, slapping at the midge behind his ear. It fled.

"You probably will," retorted Aunt Randii. "I shall comm for the constable immediately and if you are still here when she arrives, you shall receive the full penalty of the law." She rummaged further into the pocket with a shaking hand. "And cease pointing that thing at  _me,_  young man!"

"Erm, what?"

"Your braid! Your braid! Do  _not_ think for one millisecond that I do not know a  _Jedi_  when I see one!"

Obi-Wan thought hard. It was necessary.

"Madame, your neks have stolen my clothing and I cannot leave until I get it back," he declared with Force-inspired acuity. "If you have me arrested for trespass, I shall bring suit for recovery of property."

Aunt Randii was sufficiently perplexed to lower her pistol and allow him to explain, while she coaxed the neks out of the water. He was a splendid talker and had fine eyes that looked honest enough.

There was a rush of footsteps among the trees.

"Hide!" commanded Aunt Randii.

Obi-Wan promptly hid, and when Edna arrived with the bathing suits, the young lady found her aunt calmly seated on the ground, holding Milo and Gloria each by a dripping collar.

"Leave my suit and return to the house at once with these rapscallions," directed Aunt Randii without turning her head.

"Why, Aunt Randii, what's the matter?"

"Nothing!" snapped her aunt in exasperation. "Go back to the house and stay until I come. Ask no questions."

Edna searched the scene with mystification.

"Yes, Aunty," she suddenly said, and walked away in a flurry of excitement. She had caught the gleam of a bright eye peering at her from among the greenery.

Edna burst into a rhapsody as she went, trilling and warbling as she had learned from the birds of the wood, as mate called to mate in the springtime. If she could have skipped, she would have, but her skimpy gown disallowed any natural spreading of limbs for recreational purposes.

"She has a marvelous soprano," thought Obi-Wan. He was sorry when she was out of hearing, but glad, too, for the water was beginning to pucker his cuticle in hard ridges like a sine wave.

"Now, young  _man,_ " said Aunt Randii, "I shall leave this bathing suit here for your use. I shall expect you to put it on and retire from the premises as quickly as possible."

"I must remain until nightfall," was the firm reply. "I must find my clothes. I should feel ridiculous to be seen in clothing such as that. You, yourself, would scarcely care to have me be seen emerging from your premises, on _Rest Day_  especially, in such outlandish garments."  _Turn their weakness into your strength. Negotiate with an eye to your opponent's shatterpoints._ Obi-Wan remembered the lesson as he Sensed his Master's large hand on him, guiding him along the Jedi path.  _Yes, Master._

That last argument told. Aunt Randii weakened visibly.

"Very well," she grudgingly agreed, "but at dusk ... stars and galaxies, young man, how your teeth do chatter! Are you getting a chill? I'll bring you a pot of tarine tea and some dinner right away," and she hurried off, refastening her gown's topmost button as an afterthought.

Obi-Wan lost no time in getting into that bathing suit. To distract himself from the outré quality of his experiences this day, he fell on childhood rote as if he were dressing himself in his customary layers of Jedi attire: "One for the Master" ... he pulled on a pair of midnight blue bloomers that came just below his knees ... "one for the Padawan" ... he struggled into a blouse of the same hue ... "one for the F ... erm, no." The bonnet festooned with grosgrain ribbons he placed neatly on the turf. He stood, casting about in the Living Force for traces of his clothing and thinking of Master Qui-Gon as he did so. Unconsciously, he flexed his biceps. There was a  _rrriip_ as the blouse split down the back and at the armpits. Still, he was very grateful for it; a warm glow had begun to pervade him the moment he had donned it. He hurried to the spot where he had hidden his lightsaber. His weapon was safe, but his left boot had not escaped damage. Gashes scored the smooth leather and one recurved tooth had broken off and stuck in the vamp. Obi-Wan thought with redoubled relief of the strobing lights in Milo and Gloria's behavior enhancement electrodes. Their teeth  _could_  have minced his flesh for appetizers.

He rolled the lightsaber into the waistband of the bloomers, reluctant to let it out of his reach. The bulge made him reconsider. "No use frightening these delicate ladies further," he thought. He tucked the symbol of his Jedihood once more in the boot and replaced it under the gnarl.

"Now  _you_  leave this alone," he warned the small furry creature which watched him with bright eyes, and was quite comfortable on the stream bank when Aunt Randii came bustling back with a pot of steaming tea and a tray loaded with nutritious things to eat. He would see whether they were  _good_  or not.

She sat by admiring his appetite until he had finished, then made him drink the restorative tea to the last drop. He talked in cultured tones all through the dinner, and it was with a sigh of almost regret that she started away with the empty dishes. She came back presently.

"You will find our summer bower up in that direction," she pointed out. "We shall expect you to - to keep out of range during the day, and to report to the kitchen door at dusk, when you will be escorted to the road."

"I shall follow your instructions assiduously," he assured her.

Aunt Randii again walked slowly away. To save her life, she could not think of another reason to prolong the interview. He was a most gentlemanly young man, and he had splendid eyes!

The male trespasser spent the next hour in hunting clothes and anathematizing nek dogs. Rags, threads and disjointed sleeves were all he could find, and at length he gave up, most bits accounted for, but worthless. Discovering a high grassy plot near the stream, screened on all sides by a thick copse of bushes, he leaned back on his elbows to study an outcropping of jade which rain from the dripline of the bushes had uncovered. Jade, he mused; opaque or translucent, deep forest green or pale lavender with rosy undertones, it was as changeable as a callow youth's mood. He lay down further to think matters over and promptly fell asleep.

Perhaps half an hour later, he slowly opened his eyes with the feeling that he was being compelled to awaken, and found Edna seated quietly beside him, keeping the midges away from him with a gracefully waved frond of fern.

IOIOIOIOIO

"Just sleep right on," Edna gently urged. "I often sleep for hours on hot afternoons in this very spot."

"How did you come here?" Obi-Wan demanded, sitting up, startled.

"I hunted you," she confessed with a joyful little laugh. "I'm so pleased you're awake at last and don't want to sleep more. I felt just sure your eyes were blue. And they are!"

Her delight at this fact was so obvious that he felt uneasy.

"You see, I listened outside the window while Aunt Randii told Aunts Georgette and Dolpha all about you," she went on, leaning closer in confidence. "Aunt Georgette and Aunt Dolpha were for comming the constable anyhow, but Aunt Randii likes you. So do I!"

"Oh!" said the astonished young man. For one of the few times in his life, conversation failed him.

"Of course," said the girl simply. "Well, I waited until they lay down for their after lunch naps, and climbed out my window so as not to disturb them. They do enjoy their naps so much, you know. Aunt Randii is nearly  _fifty_ Standard." On this day, the birds tweeted and the frogs jugarumped and the small furry creature scampered even higher in its tree to catch sight of them in their hidden glen. It chirruped and squeaked as it swayed back and forth in the topmost branch.

Obi-Wan and Edna could not picture themselves at fifty Standard in such a vernal setting, and indeed, Obi-Wan thought, they should not even try. He sank deeper into Edna's honest gaze and forgot many things about his training.  _Now_  what could he say? With any other girl he could have found the answer, but this one had him flummoxed.

"But you look ever so much nicer when you are awake," she further informed him, her eyes clear with straightforwardness that was worse than disconcerting. In desperation, he answered, with her own frankness, that she was nice looking herself. He meant it, too.

"I'm glad you think so," she sighed. "I just knew we should like each other as soon as I saw you lying there asleep."

It was he who blushed, not the girl.

Edna partly raised up to recapture her fern frond, and when she sat down again her shoulder remained lightly touching Obi-Wan's arm. A thrill ran through him and tingled out his fingertips like the Sith lightning he had read about, but he never moved a muscle. She looked up at him in peaceful happiness and he somehow felt very mean and unworthy. Her eyes made him uncomfortable. The whole trouble was that she was so honest; she had never been taught to conceal her thoughts by the thousand and one spoken and unspoken lies of ordinary social discourse. She was neither bold nor timid, but merely natural, with no suspicion that propriety demanded a man and a woman to leave a mutual liking unconfessed to the other upon such short acquaintance. It was rough on the young man. He was unused to having the truth fly about in such reckless fashion in conversations. It bothered him.

"I'm not a bit afraid of you," Edna presently told him. "I knew all the time that Aunt Randii was wrong. She told me that all men were dreadful, and that the first thing they did was to, to kiss a girl they liked."

"She knows  _nothing_ about it." Obi-Wan did not know why, but he felt cross, angry with himself and with her. This was Master Qui-Gon's home world, and these people were nothing like him. The galaxy felt out of joint.

"Indeed, she doesn't," she agreed, eying him thoughtfully. Presently she added: "I do not believe, though, that I should have minded it so much if she had been right."

Obi-Wan looked down at the tempting curve of her unpainted lips, round and full and soft as the petals of a rose. There was a pucker in them, then a quiver, then he tore his gaze away. His heart pounded up to his throat and then back down, and he trembled as he had not done since his first attack of attraction at age fourteen. His breath came and went with a painful flutter and even though he used Jedi centering techniques, calm eluded him. He couldn't do it, he thought, even though she was begging him to, with every glance she  _projected_  nearly as strongly as a Jedi. It would be bad manners to pretend he did not understand her intent.

"I should like to kiss you, Edna," he admitted with an echo of her frankness, "but I shall not. Under the circumstances, it would not be right."

"There, didn't I say so! I told Aunt Randii that there certainly must be  _some_  good men in this world!"

She snuggled up closely to him, by and by, unsuspicious, and just talked and talked and talked. It was pleasant to have her there at his side, babbling innocently away in that sweet, musical voice. How pretty she was, how artless and trusting and how honest, a quality he admired enough to want more of it for himself. It came to him that his friends had for a long time been urging him that he ought to 'branch out more,' as they put it, 'get his nose out of a text,' and other things less polite. How delightful it would be to stay on forever in this grove with her, if the mission report were not to be done. If Master were not waiting for his return. If the galaxy were not sliding with the inevitability of gravity towards some great event of which his dreams showed only a dark shadow. He presently found himself saying these things to Edna, as confiding in her as she was in him, though he had not intended such words to pass his lips. She took the wish as a matter of course. She had confidently expected him to feel that way about it, and if he felt that way, to say so. He decided to kiss her, because she wanted it so much, and because he Sensed she was not ready for anything more. For that matter, neither was he. If the world should change, and the galaxy evert itself, then he might be, but not now. Now, he set out to enjoy a sweet kiss and secondarily, to bestow upon this girl her first one. It would be so easy.

The small furry creature lost its grip on the bending branch over their bower and fell on Edna's shoulder. It panicked, bounced off the shoulder and onto Obi-Wan's hair and then sprang for the grass, making a wake through the blades. Obi-Wan and Edna let out peals of laughter, rolling onto their backs and kicking their heels and when they stopped, their hands entwined.

_**"Edna Egglim!"** _

IOIOIOIOIO

Obi-Wan and Edna jumped like the small furry creature had.

Aunts Randii, Georgette and Dolpha rigidly confronted them, having stolen upon them unseen, unheard, unthought of, and they now stood in grim horror, merciless and implacable. They advanced in a swooping horde, after one moment of agonizing suspense while Obi-Wan wondered how the kriff the three draigons had lumbered up the hill and plowed through the copse without either Edna or himself hearing them. How much noise  _had_ the two of them been making? They snatched Edna into their midst, glaring three sorts of loathing upon the trespassing Jedi.

"Has this person  _kissed_ you, or attempted to do so?" hissed Aunt Dolpha.

"Not yet," meekly answered poor Edna.

"I assure you ladies ..." began the trespasser, but Aunt Dolpha cut him short.

"Silence, sir!" she commanded. "We wish no explanation from you, whatever."

Obi-Wan was crushed. Explanations were what he was good at. The little company wheeled and marched away, bearing Edna an unwilling and impenitent captive, two of them ingeniously keeping behind her so that she should have no opportunity of even exchanging a backward glance with her new friend.

Left to himself, the trespasser moodily kicked holes in the turf. When his big toe hit the jade outcropping and he hopped about in a brief spasm of pain, he had an intense desire to do something violent: to smash something, no matter what. He was furious with the trio of aunts. It was a shame, he told himself, to bury alive a lovely and noble young woman like that, through a warped and mistaken notion of life. What right had they to condemn a sweet creature such as Edna to a starved existence? It was his Jedi duty to rescue her from the colorless fate that hung over her, and he would do his duty. Master Qui-Gon would feel the same. The blouse split more as he flexed his biceps, gathering inspiration from thoughts of his powerful Master's Force presence.

Would he free her? How? Should he resort to a legalistic tack such as a search warrant or writ of replevin? He snorted at himself. This whimsical view of the case only exasperated the more as it presented the utter hopelessness in approaching her ... of ever seeing her again ... her friendship denied him forever. When Milo and Gloria came chasing a flitterbug in his direction, he threw them a dirty look and Force-batted the flitterbug away like he did when he played scramball with his former Clan mates. The neks bounded uselessly away in pursuit. Blast them, anyway! It was their fault!

Next he blamed himself. If he had only resisted the lure of the creek like a Jedi ought, he would not have been kilometers away from help from home, dressed in bloomers and embroiled in a mission with little chance of a positive ending. This thought tainted the success of his Council-appointed mission, completed only this morning.

Then he blamed Edna. Why,  _why_ was she such a confiding artless innocent? He would call her a fool, except she wasn't. He remembered her eyes and abjectly apologized to the memory of her, which might be all that he would have left. She deserved a pedestal: well-bred, unspoiled, without guile or subterfuge, healthy, beautiful and honest. That had been the thing he recalled the most: her honesty. It spoke ill for the galaxy that this should have seemed startling. By all the stars, she should not be swallowed up in the Maw Cluster of this paltry life. He would rescue her, and claim that first kiss.

He sat down on the stream bank to think over this phase of the question. He had known her several years in the minutes since his eavesdropping, and it was time for this foolishness to come to an end.

Time flies when youth listens to the heart of the galaxy which beats in time with its own heart. Obi-Wan was surprised to note a strange hush settling down over the woods. A chill vapor seemed to rise from the gurgling waters. There was a melancholy in the tweetings of the birds which flew over the stream, searching for flitterbugs. The rustling trees softened their murmur to a continuous whisper, soothing and caressing. The waters' noise became a tinkle, each note separate and metallic. Near the reeds, a sudden chorus of frogs croaking blended with the chirps of the small furry creature and there were other sounds, mysterious, untraceable, but all musical in greater or lesser degree. Obi-Wan listened harder.

He understood at last. These sounds, the rustling leaves, the swooping birds, the jangling creek, the frogs' and others' intangible cadences, these were the instruments of the Force's vast orchestra, playing their lullaby for the drowsy day. It was dusk, and he was desperately attached, not to one person, but to Love, and he had on a fool bloomer suit and he had to return to his larger world of civilization just as he was. Woe, woe and anathema! Would the object of his attachment be kind, or relentless, or impossible to understand? Was Love too broad an entity to be attached to? Should he forge past the revelation that the Living Force had shown him? Never had he wished for Qui-Gon's counsel more. A further question bowed his shoulders. Could he handle rejection from those he loved? Obi-Wan put his head in his hands. He had to move, or go mad.

At the house, he found a table set under a shade tree back of the kitchen. Supper for one was illumined by the rays of a solitary glowrod. Aunt Dolpha and Aunt Georgette, each with a Verpine pistol in her lap, sat grimly to one side. Neither Edna nor Aunt Randii were anywhere to be seen, and he divined with a thrill that Aunt Randii was acting as jailor to the young woman until he should safely be off the premises. Evidently, she had been hard to manage. Good for her!

He bowed as he approached..

"I should like you to know who I am," he began.

"You will please to eat your supper without conversation," Aunt Dolpha interrupted. "We know who and  _what_  you are."

"I wish to see your niece at least once more, to say goodbye," he protested, but the ladies, finding rudeness necessary, clasped their hands to their ears.

"Kindly eat," said Aunt Georgette, without removing her hands.

Obi-Wan sat down and glared at the food. He thought he heard Edna's voice and the sounds of a scuffle in the house, and it gave him inspiration. He arose, and, leaning his hands on the edge of the table, shouted as loudly as he could:

"I am Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi of Coruscant. I will give you no cause for worry. We Jedi form no attachments." He meant this sincerely, and with his recent epiphany on the stream bank, his sincerity approached quantum levels.

" _Are_  you going to eat your supper?" inquired Aunt Dolpha.

He gave up. He could not, as a Jedi, take Aunt Dolpha's and Aunt Georgette's hands from their ears and make them listen to what he had to say. He turned sadly away from the table. The armed escort also arose.

"Please lead the way," requested Aunt Dolpha. "The path leads directly from the front of the cottage to the road."

He had stalked, in dismal silence, almost halfway down the winding avenue of trees, gloomily watching the gigantic shadows of his limbs leaping jerkily among the shrubbery, when it occurred to him that the women could scarcely carry the glowrod and pistols and still hold their ears.

"I am Obi-Wan Kenobi, of Coruscant," he shouted, and looked back to address them more directly. Woe again! The pistols reposed in the pockets of the skimpy black gowns, the glowrod rested askew in Aunt Dolpha's belt, and both women were holding their ears.

Lost in his own distress, he could not know that they had been whispering about him, however, and really, for man-haters  _and_  Jedi-haters, their remarks had been very complimentary. Not even that ridiculous costume could hide his athletic figure and good carriage; indeed, as he preceded the two, it may even have enhanced them.

They were nearing the road when they heard a woman's voice shrieking for them to wait, and at length Aunt Randii came running after them, breathless and excited.

"You must come back to the house at once, all of you," she panted. "Edna is wildly hysterical. She insists that she must see this young man, monster or no monster, that she will die without him. I truly believe she would!"

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Aunt Dolpha. "Come on, then."

It was Aunt Dolpha who swiftly and anxiously led the way. At the door of the parlor, she paused and confronted the young Jedi.

"Remember," she warned, "that however impulsive our poor, misguided niece may appear, you  _must_  not kiss her!"

Without waiting for a reply, she opened the door for him. Edna, smiling through the last of her tears, sprang to meet him, and, seizing his hand, drew him down on the sofa beside her. The flower had dropped from her undone hair in her display of emotion and Obi-Wan could see that her natural enthusiasm for his presence had awakened her to her own desires in a corollary to his Force-driven epiphany.

"I'm going to keep you here always, now," she declared with pretty authority, as she locked her hand in his and interlaced their fingers.

Obi-Wan looked around at the aunts and suddenly longed for his own clothes. They had pulled their chairs in a close semi-circle about the sofa and were helplessly staring. He felt the hot blood burning in his cheeks, on his temples, down the back of his neck. With his free hand, he tugged the torn blouse to hide his mid-section. He draped his braid to hang behind his shoulder, touching the Merit Beads to further his resolve. He seemed to feel Master Qui-Gon's hand smoothing the length of hair all the way down his back. He smiled. Still, he was too nervous to relax his head against the antimacassar.

"You  _will_  stay, won't you?" Edna asked, anxiety as natural to her as was her appreciation of his eyes.

"I think I shall take you with me, instead," he replied, smiling down at her in an attempt to conquer his embarrassment.

Edna sighed as he suspected she had done on her moonlight walks. The spectators suddenly arose, retiring to the far corner of the room, where they held an excited, whispered consultation. They came back and sat down in the same solemn half-circle. Aunt Dolpha ceremoniously cleared her throat.

"You will please to unclasp your hands and sit farther apart," she directed. This obeyed, she proceeded: "Now, Padawan, we are curious about your name. 'Obi-Wan,' that is. Is it possible you hail from our world?"

All three leaned forward, obviously rapt on his answer. Obi-Wan formed a theory: their ideals were reaching for any scrap of information that would render his presence in Edna's life more acceptable. Never would these three soar into the stratosphere of a planet, bound for the heavens. This world of hearth and home was their reality, forever, unless the galaxy should change and their ideals die. Suddenly, he found himself more sympathetic to their guardianship of a girl and he felt the same guardianship. Edna, too, had ceased smiling, listening with all her open heart. He squeezed his knees and bowed his head, asking the Force what he never had before. A node inside himself that he felt  _sure_  would have responded to his unspoken question remained as still as that revelatory moment on the banks of the stream.

"No," he said softly. "I do not know my heritage. The Jedi are my family." Was this revelation what the Council had hoped for, on this mission to Qui-Gon's planet? Was he to realize down to the quick that he and Master were kin in the Force only, separate from any physical bond? It hurt only a little.

The four women relaxed. "I think I may safely say, may I not, Sisters Georgette and Dolpha, that this quite alters the case?" was Aunt Randii's strange query.

"Quite so, indeed," agreed Aunt Dolpha.

"Very much so," added Aunt Georgette.

"Decidedly," resumed Aunt Randii. "We are pleased."

Edna had gradually hitched closer to him, and now her hand, unreproved, stole affectionately to his shoulder. Aunt Dolpha was wiping her eyes. Aunt Georgette openly sniffled. Aunt Randii cleared her throat most violently.

"Your origins are all that we could wish, young man," she admitted in a business-like tone. "We shall waive, in your favor, our objections to men in general. If we must have intercourse with one, we are to be congratulated upon having one whose home world is not our own." The three aunts, as by one electric impulse, bent forward with shining eyes.

Obi-Wan was busy parsing 'intercourse' to mean 'interpersonal communication.'

"Huh?"

Aunt Randii smoothed her gown. "You must have wondered about our signage upon the approach to these premises. All who pass this way do." A smidgen of pride crept into her tone. Obi-Wan considered that this idiosyncrasy set the family apart in a land where novelty was scarce. "Years ago, a Jedi visited our canton. He had a solo mission to complete, as he told us, before deciding upon his first Padawan to train.  _He_  knew about the River of Light.  _He_  knew his origins rested on our world." The others plucked at their hair, adjusted hems or in Edna's case, smoothed the petals of the flower still at her throat. They had heard this tale before.

"He and I shared a friendship," Aunt Randii went on. "We became close, though Uncle Potor discouraged our relations. It became a game to me to slip out to meet him, and I think I wanted what my dear mother and poor Sister Jan-Elaine had: a man."

Obi-Wan's throat tightened. The coincidences were mounting up as his theory bade fair to turn into a hypothesis. He was not ready for any more revelations, yet as one views a speeder wreck, he could not stop listening. If what he suspected were true, his plans for a Coruscant homecoming would need to change drastically. The revelation he had experienced on the stream bank could not have been a cruel prank his psyche had played on him, could it? Edna, gleaning his discomfort, leaned her arm against his in silent support.

Aunt Randii warmed to her subject.

"Sometimes, we meditated together, well, as much as  _I_  could do, young Obi-Wan. I, I  _think,_ because of my  _great_  beauty and the fact that we were fellows in our planetary birthright, that he fell in love with me." She turned to Obi-Wan, intent on proving her innocence in such a dastardly charge as encouraging Jedi to look outside the Order for fulfillment. "His mission ended. He lingered. He was censured by your Council. He got into trouble because of  _me."_

Obi-Wan's theory dissolved. So Aunt Randii and the rest did  _not_ wish to risk even a chance of pain for their precious Edna. In their reaction to the heartache of nearly two decades ago, they had become reactionary. Edna should not have any pain, whatsoever, but particularly something they could prevent. It was laudable, it was impractical, it was going to stop right now. He had formed a response and had his mouth open when he saw in his mind's eye the Master he knew so well, honorable to his own personal Jedi Code. Obi-Wan wilted on the inside. Qui-Gon would have done that. He would have lived in the moment, following his heart to be with this _woman_  for as long as he could. Then he would have returned for choosing Genevra to be his first Padawan, but remaining constant to his feelings, which was why Obi-Wan had never known Qui-Gon to pursue intimacy with himself or anyone.

Aunt Randii's gaze became distant. "He came from the upland cantons, I could tell because of his jointed name, you see, just like our dear mother honored her heritage when she gave the name Jan-Elaine to her last child." Obi-Wan wished that the woman would stop talking, because the things his imagination was showing him pained his heart. Qui-Gon's planet held information about his Master that he would give a great deal not to have been shown. If he did not know Qui-Gon's leanings, then he could still hope. He barely heard what Aunt Randii said next.

"And Jan-Elaine had just birthed Edna, and he was supremely tender with the baby and really, I could see that, Jedi or not, his vocation was to mind the dearest, most precious things, our  _legacy_  … " Obi-Wan's face fell further. Of  _course,_ Master adored younglings of all sorts and species. Obi-Wan would not have used the term 'vocation', but then these ladies were incredibly dutiful and used the language of their strict notions of propriety. Qui-Gon, oh,  _Qui-Gon,_ Obi-Wan thought, sighing like the gusty breeze through the greel trees near his afternoon's excursion. He gathered his strength to endure the rest of this speech. If Qui-Gon had romanced his fellow citizen Randii, then the family's story deserved his full attention and he rallied. There, the woman seemed to have reached the end of her tale of woe.

Edna's life should not contain woe. Obi-Wan spoke out as firmly as Master would have done.

"I wish to have continued contact with your niece. I wish to communicate with her, in  _friendship,_  so that she may feel she has an interested party in the galaxy outside the confines of her home. In time, she may wish to visit and I should be honored to escort her about Coruscant, when time permits from my Jedi duties. She will  _not_  die, if I leave now" ... he turned to Edna, grazing his forehead to hers ... "as she and I both know" ... Edna colored, looked trustingly up at him and nodded ... "because she will realize that our paths may be separate, yet our hearts will keep company." Until the galaxy should dim, she would remain his idol, safely on her pedestal, as safe as if she were his dear sister. If anyone should harm her, he would leap to her aid. If her circumscribed life should trouble her, he would help her to find another. But, looking around at the materteral love which surrounded her, he did not think she would come to harm of any sort. And she was young, and he was young. There was time for changes.

Aunt Dolpha glanced at her sisters. At their nod, she responded:

"We are in agreement. The answer is yes."

But Aunt Randii was still plucking the fond rosy memories of her youth from the bushes that lined memory lane. Her hands brushed her bosom, and Obi-Wan averted his gaze. She swallowed hard, rummaging in yet another pocket, her eyes downward.

"I wept when he left. He dried my tears with this."

It was a plain ecru handkerchief, marked with initials for the punctilious Jedi quartermaster's record of supplies used on each mission.

Obi-Wan looked.

"A-A."

"Ali-Alann, his name was." Aunt Randii arched a brow as high as her taut hairstyle would permit. "Why, who did you  _think_  I meant?"

Obi-Wan could not speak. Ali-Alann? Not Qui-Gon? So he  _did_  have a chance with Master? Master, whose romances included, as he now knew, no women and whose last liaison must have been, what, six years previously? Master, who would be  _starving_  for - Wheels upon wheels of possibilities spun before him, each cog fitting neatly into place, gears moving precisely like the galaxies wheeling unseen over all their heads.

Then negotiation training took over. "I could not say. I am only a Padawan and the Knights are many."

He changed the subject. They spoke of the weather and Obi-Wan learned of local politics and the latest crop failures, things that his mission briefing had covered in lesser detail. He acknowledged in a dignified manner their praise of his handling of the accord which would make the selling of their crops more profitable. By and by, he crossed his legs in comfort as a home-like feeling crept over him. Suddenly observing their bloomered exposure, however, he tried to poke his legs under the sofa, and twiddled his thumbs instead. The evening passed from dusk to dark. Eventually, he felt the call of duty and spoke of his resolve to leave.

Edna's brow remained unfurrowed. "I know! I shall program Milo and Gloria to lead you down the path and to the City. You shall not venture forth into the dark alone." This statement comforted him in ways that he could not fathom and he allowed Edna to draw him into an embrace. With the aunts' steady regard, he pulled back, but Edna clung, her face expectant. Obi-Wan felt the Force move.

"And when do our young people expect to reunite?" meek Sister Georgette ventured to inquire.

"As the Force wills," Obi-Wan and Edna chorused. They smiled at each other, caught up in an accord as neat as the one that Obi-Wan had witnessed that morning. He was astonished, and rather pleased, too, to find her suddenly embarrassed and blushing prettily. In contrast, he felt himself calm, sinking into her appeal as he had sunk into the welcoming coolness of the pool. The fall, rather than making him dizzy, strengthened him and he moved to act upon the vow to deliver her first kiss.

Before he could do so, Aunt Dolpha announced, "I believe, then, that you may now kiss our niece; may he not, Sisters Georgette and Randii?"

"He may!" eagerly assented the others.

"Very well, then, proceed," commanded Aunt Dolpha, folding her arms.

The young man braced himself to meet this new shock, then gazed down at Edna's upturned face. She looked full into his eyes with the steady flame of her integrity, and he kissed her willing lips.

"Ahhh!" sighed the man-hating trio in ecstatic unison.

Leaving Edna's arms with a less intense kiss to her brow, he smoothed her unbound hair in farewell, only now noticing that the red-gold in it complemented his own auburn. She seized his hand and kissed its palm.

Abruptly, Obi-Wan rose and bowed. "I must be on my way. You all have been hospitable. The Jedi thank you."

Edna's lips quivered and rather than ushering him out, she sank further into the sofa. Two of her aunts gathered around her, and it was Aunt Randii who saw him to the door.

Once on the threshold, Obi-Wan studied her. The situation called for something more from him.

"She had to learn sometime."

The redoubtable Randii firmed her lips as she did something with Milo and Gloria's implants, then stepped back as the beasts charged out the open door, waiting at the bottom of the porch steps with open mouths and eager eyes. She thrust a glowrod into Obi-Wan's hand.

"Not on  _my_ watch."

Having no answer, Obi-Wan bowed once more and made his escape. He had a lightsaber to reclaim, and a Jedi Master to make his mission report to. A kiss would not be out of the question.

~.~

EPILOGUE:

After the Purge, Obi-Wan remained in shock from survivor guilt until he met again with Edna, who had never moved from her aunts' estate, content to sing in her secluded woods as she swam in its pool. Since the galaxy had everted, as Obi-Wan thought it might two decades previously on his Master's home planet, he returned to that world briefly while en route to Tatooine with baby Luke. After a hasty explanation that Luke was not  _his_ baby, Edna wanted a baby, too, and she welcomed Obi-Wan to her home and her bed. When Obi-Wan left the next morning, he had started the genesis of Mara Jade. He never knew it, though he  _did_  feel that the galaxy had paid something of what it owed him. For years, he was smart enough to keep his distance from anyone named Skywalker whenever he could, but Fate was not to be kind to him, not that she ever had been. He was dutiful to the end, mentoring Luke for their short time together, never complaining because he had no one to complain to.

IOIOIOIOIO

The End.

a/n Fanon has it that Obi-Wan was Mara Jade's father, and since I could not satisfy myself how this rumor started, here is a story to compensate. Also, Obi-Wan is the Slut of the Temple in many, many Master-Apprentice stories, so this tale might account for that.

 

  
  


 

  
  
  


  
  
  


  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Depictions of characters soon on my LJ.


End file.
